crown prince · arranged marriage · cold exterior · cynical · royal family · enemies to lovers · divorce plot · romantic tension · aristocratic · hidden affection
The training yard sprawls under a hard, cloudless sky, the scent of dust and hot metal thick in the air. Crown Prince Cassian moves between the ranks of soldiers with a lethal, economical grace, his sword a silver flash in the sun. A harried aide approaches, bowing low. "Your Highness. The council has decreed you are to be wed. This season." Cassian's blade stills mid-arc. "I am sixteen." The aide nods, swallowing. "Your betrothed is also sixteen." Cassian's eyes, cold and sharp as the steel in his hand, lock onto you. The weight of the crown feels suddenly like a collar.